So of course, I fell for it. “Let me win? Please.” I joined him, flopping down into one of the huge beanbags beside him and he handed me a controller.
We played for almost six hours straight, smack talking each other the whole time, naturally stopping when customers came in, and to be honest, it was the best therapy ever because I found myself rarely thinking about the mess I’d made. Kudos to Mario!
When it was six, we shut everything down and headed out.
“Still tied,” Vegas said as we went out the back.
“Yep.” I locked the back door then retorted, “Only because you let me win.” That was a lie and he knew it. I could hold my own with that game for sure and probably could’ve taken him, but again we’d decided to keep it even.
He chuckled as we walked to our cars. “Nah. It’s because you let me win.”
“I was feeling pretty magnanimous today,” I replied with a snort.
“’Least you’re in a better mood now.”
I had a hand on my Jeep’s door when I felt my shoulders fall because what he said only served to remind me that my life was a total dung-hole right now.
“Fuck,” he echoed his comment from when we’d first gotten to work. “Sorry, Sim. Goddamn it.”
I looked at him and stood up straight. “You know what, V? It’s okay. I’m tired of being a mopey drama queen. I’m over it.” I smiled at him to prove it. Mom had always said, “Fake it ‘til you make it” and I was going to put that advice to use, so sick of being a sad sack. “And I’m swearing off men at least until this semester is over.”
He eyed me for a second waiting for me to break, I guess, but when I didn’t, he smiled back. “Thatta girl. ‘Kay, see you, what, Wednesday?”
“Yep. Be good.”
“Tall order,” he mumbled before he got in his Torino and fired it up. Jesus, that thing was loud.
He waited until I pulled out and gave him a wave before he put it in gear, following me out of the lot. Then I turned right and he turned left and that was that.
Confession Number Ten
Monday morning I was up and out the door before Marcy even got out of the shower. I’d decided that all the sulking I’d been doing was ridiculous, I was done with it and I was ready for the new day.
I’d called Mom when I got home from work last night and she set me back on track after I had a long talk with her about everything. She’d admonished me for keeping what’d happened at the sixth grade dance from her and Dad, but otherwise, she’d supported me in everything else I told her.
“You have to believe in yourself, Simone, before anyone else will,” she’d told me. And when I’d told her about Marcy and my pitiful plan to hurt Loch like he’d hurt me, she’d advised, “La vengeance est un plat qui se mange froid.”
Revenge is a dish best served cold.
Then she’d explained, “Most people think that means to wait until you’re no longer upset so you can think clearly on how to get proper revenge on someone, while others think it means to wait until the person least expects it. But the way I interpret it is that if you wait, you’ll come to realize that seeking revenge just isn’t worth it.”
And I so loved her for not saying right after that, “So was it worth it?”
But, man, was she ever right. It was definitely not worth it. At all.
After we’d said our I love yous and hung up, I’d actually gotten a good night’s sleep for a change.
Thank you, Mom. Gosh, just talking to her had helped me put things into perspective and get my head on right and I felt a kabillion times better about everything.
So here it was Monday morning and I felt like myself again, not bogged down in all the yuckiness I’d been feeling after running into Loch. Who would’ve thought so much could happen in just one weekend. Jeez. But even though my confidence had made a comeback, as I got closer to campus, I panicked just a bit knowing I’d see him in class and I wasn’t sure how it would go. I didn’t think he’d cause a scene but I didn’t know him well enough to make that call.
I went inside Noble Hall and walked to my classroom keeping my eyes down and making sure not to look around so I’d avoid the risk of seeing him. Inside the classroom, I walked straight to the same seat I’d sat in both days last week and finally had to laugh at myself for how serious I’d been taking myself. Jesus. I was behaving like a Russian spy in some political thriller. Next thing you know, I’d be doing somersaults then plastering myself to the walls as I made my way around campus.
I was still chuckling when I put my bag down and noticed that Cute Guy’s girlfriend had traded places with him so he wouldn’t be sitting by me anymore. The snitty look she gave me when I sat down made me bite my lips to keep the cackle I wanted to blast at her in.